The Crucible
by EnsoDancer
Summary: crucible (n.)-a place or occasion of severe test or trial, often revealing an individual's true character.


I was on a rooftop running when someone called.  
There was silence and suspicion as the line just stalled.  
And then a voice familiar, and yet completely unknown.  
Said, "I have your family," and I nearly dropped the phone.

"Who is this? How'd you get this number?", I demanded.  
And the voice just laughed, "Don't worry, I'll be quite candid.  
You have one choice and that's to do exactly as I say,  
Or your brothers and father are the next victims I'll slay."

"You're a liar. No one could know where my family is found."  
"Oh, so you think its a secret, your home underground?"  
"Well you'll find this live stream a bit disapproving,  
But perhaps it'll serve to make you start moving."

And there on the screen appeared my worst nightmare.  
In our home, my family, each bound to a chair.  
Anguish seized my heart and my body went weak.  
I had failed to protect them, a single tear on my cheek.

"Why are you doing this?" I seethed with anger and fear.  
"Oh, tisk, tisk," came the reply with unnatural cheer.  
Analyzing the enemy may be your usual tactic,  
But you in the dark will be much more climatic."

Keep the voice distracted, that was my plan.  
As I leapt from the roof and toward home I ran.  
Was this a game? A trick? I had to be sure.  
How could someone breach our lair, so secure?

"Oh naughty naughty, you really think you'll make it in time?  
Not likely, I'm watching. See, I've got you. You're mine.  
You'll need magic to get here, before I run them through.  
Because any sign of deceit, and that's exactly what I'll do."

"You'll receive a text with instructions very specific.  
Follow them or the consequences will be quite horrific."  
And then the voice went silent and the line went dead.  
And I was left unbelieving, filled with rage and dread.

It was just an hour later that I was waiting at the Tombs,*  
To break an inmate free, or so I had assumed.  
The text gave instructions how to exploit the jail's defenses,  
How to steal a man's freedom, despite the his many offenses.

I was to be used, just a tool in a murder's false liberation.  
I loathed the thought, but my heart held one small consolation.  
When my family was safe and the voice had been sated,  
I would hunt this man down, see his captivity reinstated.

And yet so many questions, still swirled in my brain.  
Could the murderer and the voice, be one and the same?  
Well it didn't matter then, I was already attacking a guard.  
Though I was very careful, not the leave any of them marred.

It was during the escape that a bullet grazed my shell.  
But I gave it no mind, there was no time to dwell.  
In the end it was too easy, not much of a fight,  
Before, with the man tied, I slipped out into the night.

To an abandoned building and the designated spot.  
Where we waited so long, my nerves nearly shot.  
And as minutes ticked by, one truth became transparent.  
The man may have killed, but his fear now was apparent.

So yes, I threatened his health, if he didn't reply.  
I demanded some answers, I wanted to know why?  
But he just wept and wilted like a pitiful coward.  
A pawn like I, my desire to torture him soured.

Suddenly, my phone rang like an blaring alarm.  
And the voice was back dripping with sinister charm.  
The request was simple but still repulsive.  
"Kill him," It said, "give in, be impulsive."

"But why ask for that, did this man cause you hurt?"  
"Oh no," said the voice, "my reasons are much less overt.  
He's a stranger to me, its you I work to leave broken.  
To reveal your true nature, though my name can't be spoken."

"I know your innermost thoughts, what you try to keep hidden,  
The doubt and the fury you've decided was forbidden.  
How the weight of being Leader, has taken its toll,  
And could easily shatter your precious self-control."

"Come on it'd be simple, one flick of the wrist.  
You know what I'm saying, you get the gist.  
Besides, you can't claim its the first you've spilled blood.  
Release your demons Leo, let them go like a flood."

"No! I kill for self-defense or when another's in danger.  
Never execution of a complete and total stranger."  
"But he's nothing to you, a low-life murderer, admit it."  
"It wouldn't be the worse sin, you've ever committed."

"I'm not an animal," I cried, "I have honor despite my mutation."  
"Can you be sure? Here's some incentive to ease your hesitation."  
And then an image appeared on my phone's small screen.  
Undoubtedly the most grievous sight I'd ever seen.

There was my brother with a knife to his throat.  
A trickle of blood just large enough to note.  
His eyes were defiant but filled with faith and youth.  
And I understand myself then, I knew the truth.

Something just snapped and my katana I swung.  
Before I could think, it was already done.  
And then, though awake, I seemed to open my eyes.  
I'm sorry I can't explain it, despite several tries.

Even my phone was in my belt which I couldn't discern.  
But at the time getting home was my only concern.  
And so I raced like a madman to our dwelling in the sewer.  
Yet all I found there was my family in… good humor?

"Where's the intruder," I screamed to my brothers.  
But they looked at me strangely, one after another.  
So I told them the tale, and they've stayed by my side.  
But I see it in their eyes, disbelief is hard to hide.

Don checked for a breach in the phone or security.  
But could not find one single impurity.  
And so I'm left wondering what did I do.  
Why was I broken, and so easily too.

The taking of a life, so unjustifiable,  
The weight of it now, makes me almost suicidal.  
And I'm haunted everyday, uncertain what's real.  
Except…there's a scar on my shell, that just will not heal.

* * *

*slang for the Manhattan Detention Facility in NYC.  
Any feedback good or bad is always welcome. Thanks for reading!  
Written for Halloween contest on DA.


End file.
